


Worst Nightmare (Marry Your Best Friend)

by thejeeperswife



Series: Modern AU Prompts & One-Shots [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Coffee, Don't copy to another site, Dorks in Love, F/M, Forbidden Love, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Guitar, Morning, Nightmare, Singing, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, best friend - Freeform, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 07:37:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17956343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejeeperswife/pseuds/thejeeperswife
Summary: Cullen wakes up from a pleasant dream with events that can never happen in real life.Set after Chapter 18 ofMarry Your Best Friend.An tumblr entry for OC Kissing 2019





	Worst Nightmare (Marry Your Best Friend)

Well, that was definitely a different dream.

Cullen’s whiskey eyes flashed open, the calm and stiffness of sleep quickly leaving his mind and body.  The first night in what felt like an eternity he actually had a pleasant dream.  The shock of it was why he now stared at his bedroom’s white boring ceiling.  He knew people had such dreams, but his brain rejected those opportunities since Kinloch Hold.

However, what defogged the man’s lethargy was the _contents_ of the dream.  There was little to spur the topic or actions, especially regarding the other individual.  Nothing remotely occurred between them in all the decades they knew each other.

So, why did he dream about kissing his best friend, Evie?!

The actual scene presented the act like it was a common everyday occurrence.  She was strumming her guitar, singing as best as possible when not drunk.  Cullen recognized the song clearly as “Wonderwall” by Oasis, because who would not perk up and sing that classic 90s love song.  He knew Evie knew it because as soon as they all heard it on the radio all those years ago, she went home and perfected the cords and presented her own version the next day. 

In the dream, Cullen came out on her bedroom balcony where she played and sat a cup of strong coffee with enough creamer to tint it a hazelnut brown, her preference.  All the Pox’s knew each other’s caffeinating habits, thus why they successfully pranked night guardsmen around the ruins without dozing off.  Evie continued to strum, but lifted her head enough for her auburn waves to break over her shoulder and dance in the wind.  She wore no makeup, that harsh eyeliner she uses for cat eyes thankfully missing.  He always stated she looked better without makeup, but the woman ignored the compliment.  To see her freckled face bare demonstrated how vulnerable she really was, even if in the dream she still wore those bright green contacts to see her surroundings.  Cullen wanted to know when she was in true pain or depressed, not greeted with that sassy or bitchy friend who covered her hurts and heartaches with curses and middle fingers.

Evie stared up at him, her eyes glassy and appreciative to see Cullen joined her on the balcony that early summer morning.  They had watched the sunrise together and talked.  They viewed the neighborhood Iron Ice Bitch roll away in her fancy Orlesian sedan.  Although, the cranky woman missed that Evie had used the General’s waste to color the back bumper a streaking brown across a champagne gold car.  Both friends fist bumped at that sight.

For several seconds in the dream, Cullen just gawked at this beautiful woman gently smiling up at him, a unique smile that the ex-templar only saw once or twice their whole friendship.  It was reserved for him, and she gave it so fully and easily in the dream.  It made the man think about how to entice it from her plump pink lips more often despite current circumstances.

Then, Cullen leaned down and kissed her.  Thank the Maker, the dreamscape hung on for a few seconds so the now wide wake man could completely absorb the scene.  His mind and heart conjured a convincing texture and feeling based on his several dozen kisses throughout his adult life.  Maya Amell and Bethany Hawke stuck out the most, of course, since both women were as close to an actual long-term relationship he will ever get.  Look how well they ended:  Maya broke up with him thinking he was cheating to only die a few months later.  Bethany became Cullen fuck toy essentially in Kirkwall, thus why her brother would like run him over with a motorcycle a few billion times.

However, the former knight believed those comparisons with Evie and his former girlfriends did not properly provide what her lips truly felt like.  Cullen heard once in a movie, “Mr. and Mrs. Smith”, Brad Pitt saying his costarred looked like Satinalia morning.  As a kid, Cullen loved that time, waiting patiently in Mia’s room with his brothers and sisters until a specific sound of fresh brewed coffee and homemade sausages frying in a pan gave leave for the four bumbling kids to race downstairs and tackle their wrapped presents. 

It was not the action of pulling apart the paper, but the anticipation of waiting for those distinctive sounds that Cullen truly connected what Evie’s kisses being like.  Penned-up anxiety and guessing what could and will happen.  The tentative gesture of leaning over like in the dream, while she stretches her neck and lifts her chin closing the distance from her angle.  Cullen cannot remember the old rule of it was ninety-percent of the guy’s (or gal’s depending) duty to lean into the kiss and the other person provide only ten percent.  That way, the giver would know if it was welcomed or abort.  Her face beamed and Cullen placed his free hand under her chin to touch her as their lips finally touched, tentative first until both leaned into it more and full exploration could commence.  His hated upper lip scar would allow the exposed nerves to feel the plump silky skin more clearly until he could not help but wish his tongue entry into that slick haven.

Something he would wait a lifetime to hopefully experience.

And that was why Cullen laid there that very early morning.  It will never happen.  The Pox’s vowed to never date one another for Maya’s death haunted them all, especially Cullen.  He was a monster and an addict, too broken to even think his best friend would every wish such attention.  Evie would more likely punch him in lip and scar up the other side to make his face symmetrical again.   His recurring objectification of Evie was become a massive and dangerous problem.  First time was when he showered after the night she laid on the floor while his fever boiled his brain.  Second, laying down beside her the night he nearly _choked_ her to death.  Evie demanded to stay at his side.  Cullen will never admit that was one of the best nights of sleep, her orange and clove aroma settling his soul every time a nightmare threatened.  Lastly, just yesterday, suddenly wanting to pen her against the examination room wall and kiss her dizzy.

Cullen cannot do this.  He will not give in.  In that moment glaring at his white ceiling, the ex-templar declared that soothing and happy scene was the worst torturous nightmare of all.


End file.
